Page 79 of His to Possess
"Laurel." Rex's voice softened slightly, but the intensity remained. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I hated myself for it. "Why do you care?" I managed to choke out. "You left. You disappeared without a word."
He took a step towards me, and I instinctively backed away. Hurt flashed across his face, quickly replaced by determination.
"I made a mistake," he said, his words careful and measured. "I shouldn't have left like that, and I will explain. But right now, I need you to tell me who hurt you."
I took a deep breath, sidestepping Rex to put the knife back in the sink. My hands were still shaking, but I forced myself to face him.
"It's not important," I said, shaking my head. "All of that is in the past and should stay there." The words felt hollow, even to me. "You should leave."
I braced myself for his reaction, expecting him to growl or bark orders. But to my surprise, he remained silent. He lifted his hand, gently tilting my chin up to examine my face in the harshlight. His gray eyes were like molten mercury, and I recognized the expression - he was fighting to contain his anger.
I waited for the questions, for the demands to know what happened. But instead, he lowered his large frame and skimmed his lips over my bruised cheek. The gesture was so tender, so unusual for him, that I felt tears welling up in my eyes again.
The gentleness of his touch broke something inside me. All the pain, fear, and loneliness I had been holding back came rushing to the surface. I tried to fight it, to maintain some semblance of control, but it was useless. A sob escaped my throat, and then another.
Rex didn't say a word. He simply wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I should resist, should push him away and demand answers for his disappearance. But I was too exhausted, too desperate for comfort. I let myself collapse against him, burying my face in his coat as I cried.
His hand moved in slow circles on my back, a soothing gesture that only made me cry harder. How long had it been since someone held me like this? Since I felt safe enough to let my guard down completely?
"I've got you," he murmured, his lips brushing against my hair. "You're safe now."
I wanted to believe him. God, how I wanted to believe him.
I took a shuddering breath, trying to regain my composure. His arms around me felt so right, so secure. But I couldn't let myself fall back into his world so easily. Not after everything that had happened.
I pushed myself away from him, taking a few steps back for good measure. The loss of his warmth was immediate, and I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold and exposed.
"Thank you," I managed to say, my voice still thick with tears. "For offering a shoulder to cry on. But you should leave now, Rex."
I expected him to argue, to demand answers or try to take control of the situation. That was what he did, wasn't it? But to my surprise, he remained silent. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, were now filled with an emotion I couldn't quite place. Regret? Concern? Or was it just another mask he was wearing?
"Whatever was between us," I continued, my voice growing stronger, "you made it very clear that it's over. And so did I." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I forced them out anyway. "There's nothing left to say."
I waited for him to react, to give me some explanation for his sudden disappearance. But he didn't say a word. Instead, he shrugged off his coat and draped it over one of my rickety chairs. My heart started to race as he lowered himself onto my bed, his imposing figure making the small space feel even tinier.
"What are you doing?" I asked, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I told you to leave."
He looked up at me, his gaze steady and intense. "I'm not going anywhere, Laurel."
His words stunned me. Part of me wanted to believe him, to trust that he was here to make things right. But I couldn't forget what I had found in his penthouse. The albums, the "collectibles" - women he had used and discarded like objects. How did I know I wasn't just another conquest to him?
"Why now?" I demanded, anger starting to replace my earlier vulnerability. "You disappeared on me, Rex. No calls, no messages. Nothing. And now you show up here like…"
He didn't flinch at my accusation, but I saw something flicker in his eyes. "I shouldn't have left like that," he said quietly."Laurel, you have every right to despise me, to not want me near you. I know you saw the vault and the albums."
I raised a hand, cutting him off before he could continue. "It doesn't matter, Rex," I said, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. "What you proposed, our contract, it was clear from the start."
His eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting this response. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts.
"Finding those albums was a shock," I admitted, wrapping my arms around myself. "I didn't know you collected more than artwork. But I knew you relished control. And after thinking about it, considering your interest in collecting things, the albums shouldn't have been a surprise."
I paused, watching his face carefully. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—relief? Confusion? It was hard to tell with Rex.
"You know," I continued, a bitter laugh escaping me, "you're not so different from Luka in that way."
Rex's brow furrowed at the mention of his artist friend. "What do you mean?"
